Lucky Gryffindor
by laughing-spirit13
Summary: Neville Longbottom moved on from the war. He went on to get his teaching job, a roof over his head, and a family. Fluff piece One-shot


Neville Longbottom dug the hole without magic. He didn't know why; maybe it had to do with him never having a strong affinity for spells, despite his pure-blood status. Maybe it was just the simple satisfaction of doing it right, dirt-under-your-fingernails type of right. These muggles, well they had a lot of amazing stuff, but one of their greatest accomplishments had to be gardening.

Those non-magical folk had the art figured out. Critics loved to say how dirty they get or how unprofessional and plain their gardens look. But Neville had a theory about gardening. It wasn't about how flashy the flowers were or how exotic the trees, but how relaxed the gardener could become while planting his garden. The rhythm to the muggle garden was key: dig a hole, plant a flower, cover in the hole, water, and start again. It was the simple repetition that allowed one to forget about thinking and yet still make something beautiful and lively.

Of course, being a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Deputy Headmaster, Longbottom had a reputation to keep as well. If, over his summer holiday, he were to only work with the non-amazing flowers that simply bloomed and faintly smelled nice, there would be a conspiracy. He doubted Headmistress McGonagall would sack him, but she went through so much trouble for him during his school years it didn't seem right to bring that down on her. So he did also keep a highly magical garden filled with all the sorts of plants any respectable wizard would be expected to find in their garden. The most dangerous one had to be the Devil's Snare, which Neville did plant with magic, the prettiest was the Pixie Dust Flower, which glowed florescent yellow throughout the day and night, and every once in a while little globs of light would float discretely around the petals.

But that garden didn't matter so much to Neville. He worked with those types of plants all the time during the school year, and now was summer holiday. Neville had decided when he got out bed this morning that this day would be dedicated to working with his hands in the dirt.

So he dug another hole, placed in some pink petunias, buried them in, watered them quickly, and moved on to a new plot of land.

Despite his continuous critics on anything muggle made or inspired, even Draco Malfoy complemented his flower beds once. He said "I guess it's not horrid," which is as close as a compliment one will get with Draco Malfoy. Yes, even after the Great War, Malfoy and Longbottom remained unfriendly towards each other. The only reason Draco came over once was because of a party for donators to the school which Neville had to host.

Neville contemplated which flower to plant next. It was a tough choice, between a delicate lilly or a moon flower. He looked up from his patch of dirt and saw a white hare hopping to a fro. It hopped from some carrots that he had at the beginning of holiday over to his magical garden where Dirigible Plums swung gently in a nonexistent breeze. It sniffed them idly and hopped away, carefully avoiding the Devil's Snare.

Neville turned back to his flowers and made his decision on the white moon flower. They were the oddballs of the flowering world, blooming at night. These plants were the closest to magic most muggles would get.

He finished with the flower and looked up at the sky. The sun was getting low. The Potters and Weasleys were expected for dinner. He didn't worry too much about the food, for cooking was never an issue for him, not since Ron taught him the basic principles of food magic in 7th year. Of course, Ron must have heard it from Hermione, but still.

The real worry was the mess in the house. Ever since the addition the house was constantly in shambles and Neville had no gift for cleaning spells. He remembered Tonks telling him once how her mother did it, but he never learned.

Right! Teddy Remus Lupin was due to come as well!

The hare jumped back over to the muggle style garden a sniffed at the moon flower. It took a small nibble out of one of the leaves, decided it didn't like the taste and spit it out. It took a leaf of mint and munched on that.

Neville scratched the white hare behind the ears and listened to its soft spoken mutters of content. The sounds of the hare being happy made him more relaxed than gardening ever could.

"They'll be here soon. We should try to clean up a little, maybe," Neville spoke to the hare.

And then it wasn't a white hare, but a young lady with long, platinum hair and mystic silver-gray eyes. When she spoke it was as if her life and everything around was a dream.

"I guess we should. You start dinner. I can take care of the cleaning," she sat kneeling next to Neville. He stood and reached for her hands, pulling the hare animagus up.

"Well then, shall we begin?" Luna pulled Neville into their house, the one over the hill from Molly and Arthur Weasley. It was shaped like a rook and was good out of the way from the muggle town. But, once Neville moved in, the messy garden of mistletoe and Dirigible Plums was replanted and reorganized.

Luna opened the door, and with his normal lack of grace Neville allowed it to slam shut behind him. The bang echoed through their circular kitchen and up the staircase, and what followed was the scream of a little girl rudely awoken from her nap.

"Oh dear, that will be Alice," Neville rubbed his black hair back off his forehead.

"She wants her Daddy, I bet. Go on," she urged Neville up the stairs and to their child.

Neville turned on the stairs to face Luna, who pulled her hair back and had her wand out, flashing cleaning spells all over the kitchen area.

"We'll have to set up outside, I think…so long as it is warm, Fickle Legged Jumpers can't stand the warmth…" she was speaking to no one in particular. Or maybe it was the house who listened to Luna's ideas.

Neville continued up the stairs to the second floor where Alice had her daily naps. He stared down at his girl, with her black hair and round friendly face, with silver eyes that sparkled with mystery.

How was it that Neville Longbottom, the worst student in the Gryffindor House, got to be the luckiest wizard in the world?


End file.
